


put another x on the calendar

by Drownedinlight



Series: The Famous Barry Allen [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Crack, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 03:32:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4731323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drownedinlight/pseuds/Drownedinlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry gets volun-told into doing a stud calendar for the annual CCPD fundraiser. The results have some interesting repercussions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	put another x on the calendar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coldflashtrash](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=coldflashtrash).



> A fic based on [this headcanon](http://drownedinlight.tumblr.com/post/124708216736/coldflashtrash-and-the-whole-coldflash-fandom-i) I wrote over at tumblr. Coldflashtrash wanted a fic, and after weeks of thinking and then working on this, the beast is conquered! (Seriously, this got out of hand.)

Barry was walking into work (early for once, thank you very much!) when Detective Vasquez pulled him into an office. The desk was moved off to the side and a white screen was up against one wall. Eddie was sitting on a stool, in his underwear and an unbuttoned dress shirt, looking out the window. Officer Farmer, in her work blues, was snapping pictures of Eddie at various angles and giving him directions at the same time.

“Take off your shirt,” Det. Vasquez ordered.

“What?” Barry asked.

“My fault!” said Eddie from the stool, looking over at Barry. “I told them you have abs.”

“Look towards the window, Thawne!” Farmer ordered.

“Sorry,” Eddie mumbled, eyes flicking back toward the window.

Vasquez sighed and spoke slowly. “We’re one short for the stud calendar.”

“The what calendar?” Barry asked.

Vasquez rolled her eyes. “Do you not pay attention to the department bulletin? We’re trying to raise money for charity, and we’re doing a stud calendar. Except only 11 people have volunteered and so we need a December. Thawne says you have abs, so you’ve been volun-told. Take off your shirt…please.”

“I’m gonna be late?” said Barry, eyes darting toward the door.

“Singh knows where you are,” said Vasquez. “C’mon, Allen, think of the children.” She did something that vaguely resembled an attempt at puppy dog eyes, but Vasquez had obviously never had to do puppy dog eyes in her life. Honestly, the look she was giving him was creeping him out—she was biting her lip and willing her eyes to open as wide as they would go. When at last Barry relented, it was only so she would stop making that face. “Excellent!” said Vasquez clapping her hands. “Now, shirt off.”

Barry tried not to tense as he slipped his jacket off, and then pulled his sweater over his head. His button up came with it, and he heard Vasquez and Farmer gasp. When the clothing came away from his face, he saw they wore matching grins and sparkling eyes. “Damn, Allen,” said Vasquez. “When did you get ripped?”

“I’ve been running a lot,” said Barry, shifting from foot to foot.

“Thawne off,” said Vasquez. She clamped down on Barry’s wrist, and Barry doubted if even his Flash powers could save him now. Vasquez dragged him toward the white backdrop as Eddie got out of the way and started getting dressed. Vasquez released Barry when she came to the stool. “Sitting or standing?” she turned to ask Famer.

“Standing,” said Farmer as she fiddled with her camera. “Allen could unbutton and unzip your pants? You don’t have to take them off, just leave the flaps open.” Barry felt himself turning red, but did as Farmer asked, unbuttoning his jeans and letting down the zipper. Farmer looked up from her camera and walked into his personal space. She mussed Barry’s hair, and folded down the flaps of his jeans so that his underwear was exposed. “Now,” said Farmer. “I want you to think of someone that gets you hot and bothered."

Barry flushed again, but tried to draw up a memory of someone who would have gotten off too at one point. It felt wrong to think of Iris, and of Linda and Felicity…For some reason when he thought of Oliver, shirtless and doing runs up the salmon ladder worked beautifully.

Barry snapped to as he heard the clicking of fingers. Farmer was glaring a little at him. “Think of someone else. You’re getting a little too hot and bothered.”

“Um…” said Barry.

Farmer sighed. “Okay, how about this. Take a deep breath. Think of a person who gets you hot and bothered, who makes you smile. Like when you see them you can’t help it. Don’t think about them undressed. Think about meeting them unexpectedly, and he looks up and smiles at you. Just you.”

Barry took a deep breath, clearing his mind. He tried to draw up a person like Farmer had instructed and to his absolute surprise, he was picturing meeting Leonard Snart. Snart would hold a disposable coffee cup—maybe they were in Jitters maybe they were somewhere else. When their eyes met Len’s eye brows raised. But as he would lower the coffee cup from his mouth, his lips would turn up into a smile.

“Well, well,” Len would say, “if it isn’t the Scarlet Speedster.” Actually, Leonard would take care not to say that in public. He would say, “If it isn’t Mr. Barry Allen.”

Barry would smile back, trying to think of some witty retort. Instead he would just echo Len’s words, but softly, “If it isn’t Mr. Leonard Snart. Fancy meeting you here.”

“Fancy meeting you anywhere,” would say Len.

A lens shuttered, drawing Barry out of his mind.

“No!” Farmer whined. “That was perfect. Go back to thinking whatever you were thinking, smile just like that. Just ignore me.”

So Barry went back to his mind’s eye, imaging that smile of Leonard’s. Not out of cruelness, no lies. Just a smile, a smile he made for Barry. Barry could not help but smile back. He heard Farmer’s clicking camera, but ignored her, excepting when she gave him commands to tilt his chin, or put his hands on his hands on his hips.

After about thirty minutes of this, when Barry began to ache for thinking so much of Leonard, she said, “Alright, I think I have what I need. You can get dressed and go solve crimes now.”

Barry blinked, but only for a second before he did up his jeans and pulled back on the shirt which Eddie offered out to him. “So…anything you need to tell me?” Eddie wriggled his eyebrows at Barry.

Barry waved him off shrugging on his jacket. “Only a dream.”

“Barry the way you looked just now—that was no dream. It was the way you used to look at Iris.” Eddie paused for a minute to see how Barry would react. Barry only shrugged, and so Eddie continued. “I just want to know, are you okay, Bar?”

“I… I think I am,” said Barry. “I just…need to get over someone, I guess.”

“You can’t tell them?” asked Eddie.

“It wouldn’t be best,” said Barry. He nibbled his lip. “It just…it would be best if I left it alone.”

The Leonard Snart Barry imagined was not someone who really existed. Snart, by his own admission was a criminal who stole, lied and hurt. He was a super villain and Barry was a superhero. It would never work.

Eddie had felt the shift in Barry’s mood, and just patted him on the back and put his arm around Barry’s shoulder. “C’mon then. Crime awaits us.”

* * *

At first, it was rather easy to put that half hour imagining Leonard Snart smiling at him. There was work to be done, a city to be saved. Barry had nearly forgotten all about the calendar by the end of the day. By the end of the week, he had put it all from his mind.

Farmer and Vasquez had not.

Both of them were extremely pleased when the calendar began to sell and sell quite well. It was when they sold out in a week that Vasquez wondered what was up. “All 5000?” she kept asking. “We were meant to sell those all through the end of the year.”

“Well, according to our website, yes, all 5000 have been sold,” said Farmer. “Most of them have already been picked up and we’re already getting more orders.”

“Thawne’s picture was not that great,” said Vasquez, looking over Farmer’s shoulder to where Farmer had the website pulled up.

“It’s not Thawne they’re after,” said Farmer, in a sing song voice. She pulled up another part of the website where people could leave comments. She hit control + F and typed in “December.”

“‘That Mr. December is something else,’” Vasquez read. “‘The best looking one in the catalogue.’ ‘I want to have his gay, adopted babies.’ Allen? They’re buying out our calendar for geeky, rambling Barry Allen?”

“Yep,” said Farmer. “I’ve had to forward some of these onto Captain Singh, because they are a little worrisome.”

“Like what?”

“Like someone asking how to get access to civil servants’ information,” said Farmer, highlighting the particular comment she was talking about. It went on a disturbing length about how this person would like to do this and that to Allen.

“Good thinking,” said Vasquez, wrinkling her nose at the screen. “Well, I suppose all we can do is put a hold on the back orders we have until we get more from the printer.”

Famer nodded turning back to her screen. “I’m on it.”

But they didn’t think to tell Barry any of this.

* * *

Barry was approached one day, shortly after the calendar had sold out in a week of going on sale, while he was grabbing lunch by a teenage girl who was flushing the reddest Barry had ever seen someone go. He had seen the gaggle of girls out of the corner of his eye as he ordered, but when he was waiting for the food was when one finally approached. She held out what looked like a calendar and squeaked at him.

“…Are you okay?” Barry asked.

“Couldyousignthisformeplease?” she asked in a rush. It was good Barry knew super speak or he would have never caught it.

“Um, sure,” said Barry.

She squeaked again, flipping open the calendar to the last page. And then Barry realized why she wanted him to sign it—because there was a large picture of him without a shirt on. Now it was Barry’s turn to go red. But he took her uncapped sharpie and signed his name in the corner.

He was handing it back to the girl as Eddie came up and clapped him on the back. “Hey bud, what’cha doin?”

The girl squeaked again and held the calendar out to Eddie as well. “Hey is that the fundraiser calendar?” Eddie smiled at the girl, one of his most genuine expressions.

The girl nodded. Eddie took it from her and flipped it open to where his picture was in June. He signed off more towards the bottom and handed it back to her. “Have a nice day, Miss. Bar, our food is ready.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” he said letting his friend lead him away.

* * *

The next odd thing that happened was people began to loiter around crime scenes. Not that people didn’t always loiter around crime scenes, but now Barry feels like he’s constantly being watched. It’s not until a woman shouts, “We love you Barry!” that he understands why.

“What the hell was that, Allen?” Singh asked him as they looked over to where one of the officers were shooing her away.

“I have no idea,” said Barry. He did have some idea. If he had to hazard a guess, he would say that it had something to do with the same reason people (men, women, nonbinary, genderqueer and other people of all varieties), kept asking him to sign that damn calendar.

“Probably due to his fan club,” said Vasquez, from where she is hovering over Barry’s shoulder.

Barry and Singh speak at once, “His/my what?”

“The fan club,” said Vasquez with a frown. She looked over at Singh. “Farmer said that she alerted you to a couple of…disturbing messages that were left on the fundraiser website. She’s been keeping track of the whole thing and has been updating you on anything that seems… disturbing.”

“Disturbing?” Captain Singh asked.

Vasquez nodded. “Disturbing. Like stalking disturbing.”

“And you didn’t tell me this?” Barry was so furious that he doesn’t even care if his voice squeaked.

“You mean you really haven’t noticed?” Vasquez asked, frowning. “I honestly thought you would find out or Captain Singh would tell you.”

Barry opened his mouth and then closed it again. Captain Singh raised a hand between them and said, “We’ll work it out when we get back to the station. Allen I need you present. Are you okay to keep working or do you need relief?”

“No sir, I’m alright.” At least Barry thought he was alright. As he pulled evidence for the crime he tried not to think about if anyone had been stalking him in the past months

When they returned to the station Singh officially told him to pass the analysis on to someone else and called Vasquez and Farmer into his office to go over his “fan club” and any harassing messages he might have received via the fundraiser website. Singh became slightly distracted when he saw the number of calendars that had been bought. “Fifteen-thousand?” he asked.

Barry felt a little distracted as well. “Fifteen thousand people have seen that picture?!”

“Possibly more,” said Vasquez. “Like I said, there are fan sites.”

“Fan club. You definitely said club!” Barry protested.

But Singh was already googling. The first page pulled up an official website that said barryallenfanclub.org as well as numerous facebook pages, a twitter and a tumblr.

“Well,” said Vasquez, gesturing to the computer. “Fan clubs have fan sites, and you have…fans…”

“For one picture?!”

“Allen take the rest of the day,” Singh ordered, eyes not leaving the computer. “We’ll have some of the other detectives go over this and see if there is a real threat to be seen here or just people online saying things online.”

Barry ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. I’ll…I’ll talk to Joe or Eddie about staying over with them tonight.”

“Good plan,” said Singh, looking up at them. “At the very least, you want to check in every now and then.”

Barry left the office and he could feel his heart pounding like mad. Eddie and Joe were nowhere in the bull pen—another detective told him that they were out on a call.

Barry left them a text and decided to head over to see Iris before he went home.

* * *

Little did Barry know that he had slightly bigger problems than his fan sites. Once a week, his Rogues had dinner together.

Leonard Snart might have been the mastermind behind making sure the Rogues weren’t locked up anymore. He was the one who had made sure that they had all come together. But Lisa made sure they knew who was in charge of this house. Most of the Rogues boarded within the Snart safe house (which actually used to be an apartment building that Len and Lisa had converted into a three story house with multiple rooms and a large dining room). Len might have mandated the no kill rule and that they had to all pull heists with at least 1 other rogue because safety in numbers, but Lisa had mandated that they all had to at least put in the effort to get along. Thus, she instituted a weekly, compulsory, communal dinner.

Hartley had only recently joined the rogues, and he was currently learning the ins and outs of sharing a room with the other new recruit, Axel. He liked Axel well enough…which was to say he didn’t hate him as much as the rest of the world, but he and Axel were night and day. Plus, Axel did not keep great track of his laundry which Hartley did not appreciate. Axel also had the tendency to butt into Hartley’s business and say inappropriate things.

Like when Lisa asked what everyone had done that day, Axel replied, “Hartley looked at naked dudes today.”

There were at least four clanks of forks that dropped against their plates in disgust—all of them were cool with Hartley being gay—none of them were cool with Axel’s blabber mouth and bringing up awkward topics at the dining room table. Hartley merely used his fork to stab Axel in the arm. “Ow!” he said. “It’s true!”

“It is not true!” said Hartley. He, like most of the world, only looked at porn when he was alone—and he always made sure to lock Axel out when he did. “And all of them were wearing clothes…” he mumbled.

“So you don’t deny looking at dudes?” Mardon asked from across the table as he took his third slice of garlic bread.

“You are a dude, and I am looking at you,” Hartley retorted, stabbing this time at his spaghetti. “All it was—the police put out this calendar, alright? I kept coming across it while I was doing research on Central City’s finest and I thought I would look into it.”

“Damn,” said Axel, twirling his spaghetti. “I was so hoping you were going to say that you were checking it out.”

Hartley vowed then that he was going to block porn on Axel’s computer.

“…Were the police wearing clothes in this calendar?” Shawna asked, as she stole the remaining half of Mardon’s garlic bread. Mardon glared at her.

“Yes,” said Hartley.

“They definitely had their clothes off,” said Axel.

“They were in various stages of undress which means not naked,” Hartley protested.

“Can we stop talking about this?” Roscoe asked.

“I second that,” said Bivolo as he slurped down his spaghetti.

“Not yet,” said Lisa.

The men groaned. Mick, whose spaghetti was not yet finished, rose from the table. “Where are you going?” Lisa asked.

“I’m gonna go lite something on fire until you’re done with this conversation,” said Mick. “Be back in 10.”

Mardon, Roscoe and Bivolo all stood with him, mumbling about helping with the fire.

Lisa turned her attention to Hartley, who had never been one for masculine bonding activities, but now suddenly ached to help build a fire. “Well?” Lisa asked.

Hartley could only bring up the images on his phone. He passed them over to her. “It’s some kind of charity calendar fundraiser. They’ve sold a lot of copies already and well.”

Shawna leaned over Lisa’s shoulder as she scrolled through Hartley’s phone. “Oo, I like him.”

“I like all of them,” said Lisa, “except, oh my, he’s certainly the winner.”

“Mr. December?” Hartley asked.

“Yes please,” said Shawna. “Look at that smile, I want to eat him. Hartley, what’s the scoop?”

“Barry Allen, CSI,” said Hartley, leaning forward with a grin. “He—”

But Hartley paused as Leonard Snart, still seated at the head of the table, now leaned forward and plucked the phone from his sister’s hand. “Lenny, you could ask,” said Lisa, as she picked her fork back up and began eating again.

“I could,” said Snart as he began looking through the photos. Actually, he didn’t seem to be scrolling much, but just seemed to be staring at Mr. December, Barry Allen. Leonard was just staring at the phone. Lisa began other topics of conversation, mostly with Shawna, and Axel tried to engage Hartley in some banter, but Hartley couldn’t help but notice how Leonard just kept staring at his phone.

He was still staring at it when Mick and the others returned from lighting something on fire. “What’re you staring at?”

Leonard said nothing.

“Len, Mick asked you something just now, did you not hear him?” Lisa asked, waving a hand in front of her brother’s face.

Len stood from the table.

“Where are you going?” Lisa asked.

“Out. By myself. It’s not for a job.”

And just like that, Leonard Snart was gone.

“He took my phone,” said Hartley, frowning.

“I’ll steal you a new one,” said Axel. He looked over to Lisa. “Can I get seconds?”

Hartley frowned, wondering what, exactly, had gotten into Leonard Snart.

* * *

After Iris had heard about the whole calendar ordeal, she had tried not to keep from laughing, but in the end she couldn’t. “Seriously, you didn’t know?” Linda joined in a little too, both of them amazed that Barry had gone this long without realizing that he was famous. They both sobered when he said that he might have stalkers and took him out to dinner. Eddie joined them at the end of his shift. They dropped Linda off and then Eddie and Iris drove Barry back to his apartment.

“You can come back with us if you want,” said Eddie, as they rolled up to Barry’s apartment. “We’ll wait for you to get a bag. Or we’ll take you over to Joe’s.”

The day had worn him through, and though he had told Singh he would stay over with Eddie and Iris, or Joe tonight, Barry honestly just wanted some time alone. He told them as much. “Listen, I’ll text when I get up there, and I’ll do a search of all 900 square feet. I’ll call if anything comes up and Flash myself out of there.”

Iris and Eddie both got out of the car to give him a hug, and then Barry walked up to his apartment.

True to his word, he texted when he opened the front door, and proceeded to canvas his apartment. There was no one in the bathroom, his tiny office/library or in the living/dining/kitchen area, which just left his bedroom, where he intended to flop on his bed and give Iris a quick aokay before falling asleep.

Instead he found Leonard Snart sprawled across his bed.

Barry blinked, willing the mirage to disappear. Not only was Leonard Snart in his apartment, but Leonard Snart was only wearing a pair of soft looking grey briefs.

“Well, if it isn’t the Scarlet Speedster,” said Snart, a smile rising to his lips.

“What the hell?” Barry asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought it was only fair that you get to see me stripped down after I got to see you stripped down.” Snart grinned again.

“This is not happening…” Barry muttered as his phone beeped at him.

[Everything okay?] read Iris’ text message.

[Everything’s okay] Barry hastily replied. [No fan clubs hiding in the shower.] he added as an afterthought.

Iris sent him a smiley emoticon, Barry turned back to the problem at hand.

Leonard had risen from the bed and was now standing right in front of him. God, he looked so good in those briefs. Barry swallowed hard. “Listen, you need to go. You can’t do this.”

“Hardly public indecency, Barry,” said Leonard.

“But you did break and enter,” said Barry. “And…and supposing I don’t second guess that you’re not here for some sinister purpose disguised as a fairly innocent one, I can’t…we can’t…” Barry couldn’t make the words, “it would never work between us,” come out. Instead he started crying.

Leonard blinked. “I didn’t think I’d let myself go that much,” he muttered.

Barry sniffed, trying not to chuckle. “It’s not you—I mean it is you, but it’s me too. We can’t ever do something like this, Leonard; it’s just going to get us hurt.”

Leonard smiled at him—not the warm smile Barry had imagined, with a coffee cup and something that lit up Leonard’s face and Barry’s soul. It was sad, done almost as soon as it had begun. Leonard took one step forward and cupped Barry’s face with his hands, wiping away the tears trailing down Barry’s cheeks with his thumbs. He leaned forward and kissed Barry. That too was done as soon as it had begun. “I’m sorry,” he said, still wiping Barry’s tears. “I suppose I had a silly idea that when I saw your picture in that calendar that you were looking right at me.”

“I was,” Barry whispered, as he pressed his forehead into Len’s. “I was looking right at you to smile like that. But I just can’t help feel like if we start this it’ll end in epic Taylor Swift like proportions.”

“We’ll be breathless, or we’ll have some nasty scars?” Len asked. Len shuffled forward, getting more into Barry’s personal space. His hands slid down from Barry’s cheeks to his shoulders.

“Something like that,” said Barry. He felt himself attracted to Leonard’s heat, his body. He turned his mouth and met Leonard’s lips again.

“It’s just, how do we know which one it will be until we try?” Len asked, speaking right against Barry’s skin—so close he could feel the vibrations.

“Leonard…”

“Call me ‘Len,’ sweetheart.”

And that was all it took. Barry couldn’t remember leaving work in a fury over the calendar, or being with Eddie just now, or even crying just now. All he could remember, all he could feel, was Len’s mouth pressed to his, Len’s hands sliding down his chest. All he knew was Len.

His clothes came off in moments Barry couldn’t remember, but could clearly picture what would happen. They would walk towards the bed, Len’s hands on him, pushing his jacket off, and then pulling his shirt above his head. Len’s thighs would hit Barry’s queen bed, and he would press back against it into Barry. Barry would grin and would duck his head to nip at Len’s neck. Len, meanwhile would sigh in Barry’s ear. His fingers would undo Barry’s belt, not bothering to slid it out from the loops on his jeans, but instead, he would opt to undo the button and zipper and push Barry’s pants down.

Barry would kick off his pants and his shoes, as he would press Len down into the mattress with his whole body. Len would grab his ass as they would both try and rotate on the bed, so he could lie back against the pillows. They would not quite succeed. Barry would still move his hips back and forth against Leonard. They would both kiss and touch. Barry would dig his teeth into Len’s clavicle, and Len would squeeze Barry’s ass. Barry would pull back to look at Len, run his hand over the buzz cut covering Len’s head.

Len would look back at him. Ice blue eyes against oak brown.

They would come back together, like they were charged. Opposites pulled and pushed, until kisses came and quelled all the fights.

Len would move his hands up from Barry’s ass and to his back as he began turning them over. He would pull down Barry’s boxers. Barry would try to do the same with

Len’s briefs and almost make it to Len’s knees before Len had to take over.

And Len would look down at him, just look. Barry would feel so wonderful, beautiful—just from being looked at. He would still under his lover’s gaze. But then he would say, “I don’t have any condoms,” when he couldn’t take it anymore. Because Len looking at him like Barry was the most wonderful thing ever was more than Barry could take.

But Len would just smile—the kind that lit Barry on fire inside. Then, he would lean down and kiss Barry again, nuzzling at Barry’s chest. “Aokay, Scarlet. We can make our own fun.”

So they would kiss and glide their hands across each other. Their cocks would rub together without and guidance, and eventually they would make it to the pillows. It would be the slowest build Barry had ever known, and the orgasm would roll over him like sighing after the sight of the morning sunrise stole his breath.

Barry would fall asleep his chest pressed to Len’s chest, Len’s arms around him, and his arms around Len.

Barry fell asleep thinking none of this could be real.

* * *

He woke up thinking much the same, but with Len still pressed against him. Len reached around him to turn off Barry’s first alarm.

“Barry, wake up,” Len murmured against his ear.

Barry only sputtered a little, not opening his eyes.

Len responded by biting his ear. “Up,” he ordered.

“It’s just the first alarm,” said Barry, though he was already mostly awake. He still didn’t open his eyes. “There are two more.”

“But getting up at the first alarm means we get to shower together,” said Len. “And it means I make pancakes, and you have time to eat them before work.”

Barry opened his eyes to glare at Len. “You’re very mean to use pancakes against me.”

Len kissed his nose. “The meanest. Up.”

Barry flung back the covers and headed for the shower

* * *

Barry walked in early to work with a smile a full (though emptying stomach), and a sandwich that Len had bought him for lunch. There was a little back long from him taking off early last night, but he managed to work through it swiftly enough (especially when there was no one else around, so he could use a little of his Flash powers).

He was just finishing up his last report when Farmer walked into his office with a coffee carrier and a box of bagels blinking at him. “You’re early,” she said.

“Was just a little,” he replied, glancing up from the report.

“Well, yeah, but you’re always late, so it’s like you’re extra early.” She paused and held up her goods. “Coffee?”

“Always. Join me.” Barry cleared his desk of any files that might be damaged by split coffee and bagel spread. Farmer deposited the coffee holder and bag o’ bagels and pulled up a chair. She passed him a coffee and they did up their bagels and for a while just munched and drank.

“So,” she said after a few minutes. “I owe you an apology.”

“Hey,” he said, swallowing down a mouthful of bagel. “No you don’t, I was upset yesterday, but—”

“Barry, just listen to me for a second, okay?” said Farmer, putting down her food. “You have a right to be mad at me, okay? If it was me in your position, I would expect nothing less than you or whoever marching down to my desk to tell me what was going on. I feel like a jerk for not even bothering to cc you on an email. Just because you’re a guy doesn’t make this any less serious, and—well—I owe you an apology. So I am sorry, Barry Allen, because you’re a good guy and you didn’t deserve that.”

Barry smiled at her, practically grinned. “Thank you, Sophie, that means a lot. Oh! I accept your apology.”

Farmer grinned back at him. “Thank you.” They chewed in silence again for a moment before Farmer added, “If you have an email from me in your inbox—oh it would have been from Tuesday or so—go ahead and delete it, okay?”

“Why, what’s it of?”

Farmer took a large bite and took her time chewing it down. When she finally swallowed, she said, “You know, this is has been the most successful fundraiser in the history of the department. We make $10 per calendar sold.” Barry choked a little. “Anyway, the fundraising chair wanted to know if you’d be interested in doing another calendar. Of just you.” Barry choked a little more, and he gave a squeak. “Don’t worry, Vasquez and I agreed we would tell her no for you.”

Barry exhaled—he hadn’t even realized that he was holding. “Oh, God, thank you so much.”

* * *

 Len was in his kitchen when Barry got home. He wore oven mitts and pulled a pyrex container out of the oven. Barry noticed that some of his pots and pans lay out on the counter drying and two glasses of wine sat just next to them. “I made you supper,” said Len as Barry took off his shoes and left his bag by the door.

“Thank you,” said Barry as Len brought the dish to the table.

Len, hands free of the dish, placed them on Barry’s hips to pull him in for a kiss. “How was crime?”

Barry returned the kiss. “Crime makes lots of mistakes leaving much evidence to process.” He grinned. “But I got it all done.”

“Mmm,” said Len, kissing him again. “I’m glad. Do you want some ziti?”

“I am always up to eat.”

They sat and Len dished out the food. Strange, Barry thought, how easily conversation came with them. Len asked about his day, and Barry did in turn. They finished their ziti and curled up on the couch to watch some Netflix. Barry had to applaud himself for waiting as long as he did to ask.

“Len?”

“Hmm?”

“Where do we go with this?” Barry asked.

Len turned to look at him. “I suppose we have to play it by ear. We can’t really be seen together, because that could put your job in jeopardy. We also seem to find ourselves on opposite sides of the playfield at our other…jobs. When it gets to be too much, we, we’ll have to let go.”

Barry tilted his head to kiss Len, who pressed back against him. “Okay,” said Barry, but he wasn’t sure if he would be able to let go so easy when the time came. Instead he said, “So apparently they want to do a calendar of just me.”

“What?” Len asked, again looking away from the show where he had returned his attention.

“Yeah, apparently this stud calendar they did is like the most successful fundraiser they’ve ever done and they want to do a calendar with just me on it,” said Barry. He smiled at Len’s wide eyes and the whirring gears in his brain. “I turned them down.”

“Good, I don’t like to share,” said Len.

Barry wiggled in his seat. “Well then, I’ll just have to make sure you get your own private viewing.” He placed a flirty kiss on Len’s neck.

Len, who had one arm around Barry’s waist, squeezed his hip. “Now, now, I do have to go home sometime tonight. It will look very suspicious if I’m out two nights in a row.”

Barry wiggled a little closer and whispered into Len’s ear, “I bought condoms on the way home from work.”

Len looked him directly in the face, and with a pout pushed him back onto the couch, kissing Barry senseless.

* * *

Len arrived home to Hartley and Axel arguing in the living room as Lisa, Mark and Roy looked on eating popcorn. Everyone paused as he came into the room. Len rolled his eyes. “Axel learn to use your words and stop teasing Hartley; it confuses him and he doesn’t like it. Hartley learn to listen better, and take more social ques. Lisa, don’t encourage them.”

“Where were you?” Lisa asked, tossing a few kernels of popped corn in her mouth.

“On a date.”

“Must be a nice guy if you went out with him two nights in a row.” Lisa hopped up from the couch, and blocked his path.

Harley turned to Axel. “What does he mean about using your words?”

Axel flushed. “Um well…”

“Lisa.” Len huffed. “Come on, now, sis, I just want to take a shower and go to bed. We gotta do this now?”

Lisa rolled her eyes, mimicking him.

“Well what?” Hartley asked.

“I like you,” said Axel.

“Oh,” said Hartley. He frowned. “I like you too? When you’re not being a jerk.”

“It’s just,” said Lisa, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “that we really haven’t spent any time together lately, heists notwithstanding. And now you’re seeing some guy and you won’t even tell me about him? Keeping secrets from me isn’t like you.”

Len felt his shoulders sag, and he massaged his temples with one hand. “Lisa, please, just let me go to bed and I promise we’ll do brunch tomorrow.”

“No,” said Axel, waving his hands around. “Like, I like like you. Like: I want to date you.”

“Oh.”

Lisa grinned at him.

“That’s all you can—mmph!”

“It’s a deal,” she agreed as Hartley kissed Axel soundly

Mark threw popcorn at the kissing couple. “You guys have a room you can do that in!”

Axel pulled away taking Hartley by the hand. “You’re absolutely right! And they’re sound proof!”

Mark groaned slapping a hand over his eye. “Excuse me, I need to douse myself in kerosene and—”

Mick popped his head out of the kitchen. “Don’t use my kerosene because you started something you can’t handle.”

Len just rolled his eyes, took Lisa by the shoulders and moved her out of his way. “Good night, sis, talk to you in the morning.”

Lisa took his arm as he moved away to kiss his cheek. “Night, Lenny.”

Len walked up the stairs to his bedroom, making sure to close Axel and Hartley’s door as he passed by their room.

He dreamed of the sweet boy he had left sleeping in his own apartment.

* * *

Barry got up with his first alarm the next morning, and after a hearty meal he strode into work on time. He was already working through some evidence logged for him in the early morning when Captain Singh strolled in. “Good morning, Captain,” said Barry from one of the lab tables.

“Good…morning,” Captain Singh said.

Barry looked up to see the Captain frowning and staring at him with eye brows furrowed. “Have I done something wrong?” Barry asked.

“No, it’s nothing,” said Captain Singh. He sighed and took a seat at Barry’s lab table. “Allen, listen, about this calendar business.”

Barry stopped what he was doing and focused his whole attention on Singh. “Yes, sir?”

“Listen, I know it concerns you, but I’ve looked over that site and so have a few other detectives and we think there’s really nothing to be concerned with.” Singh paused and pursed his lips—something he did when he was trying to figure out how to say something difficult. “Listen, Allen, the chair of the fundraising committee, Alice Whitaker, she would really appreciate it if you would take another thought at that second calendar.”

Now Barry frowned. “If I say no again, will it be something I end up getting ordered to do?”

“No,” said Singh. “I don’t have the power to order you to do something like that. I wouldn’t, even if I did. Alice Whitaker though—she will badger you until she gets her way. Allen, you have to understand that fundraiser brought in more money than the last ten years combined.”  
Barry sighed, letting his pen fall to the desk. “Let me give it some thought? When does she want an answer?”

“As soon as possible, she said,” Singh told him. “If you can manage by next Tuesday or Wednesday I’m sure she can stew until then without breathing down anyone’s neck. If you do we’ll have Farmer keep monitoring the website for anything troublesome. Keep up the good work, Allen.”

* * *

Cisco immediately started chanting, “Do it, do it, do it,” when Barry told his friends over lunch what his life had been reduced to. Linda pelted Cisco with fries. They all sat at a local burger joint mulling Barry’s life over free refills and greasy, local fast food.

“Oh come on, please, some genuine advice?” Barry all but begged.

“Just personally, I think you should do it,” said Caitlin, from where she sat with Ronnie’s arm around her. “But do it for yourself and no one else—not for the department or for anyone special in your life, but just because you want to.”

Barry frowned at her words. “…Anyone special in my life?” he repeated quietly.

“Caitlin,” said Linda, pausing in her pelting of Cisco. “Is absolutely right. You are a gorgeous specimen, Barry Allen. You should totally feel okay in reveling in that.”

Barry narrowed his eyes and turned to Eddie. Eddie nodded along, a grin on his face. “These women do truly impart wisdom onto your life, Barry.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, Bar?”

“What did they mean by ‘someone special?’”

Eddie got up from his seat, scooted Iris next to Barry, and sat back down where she had previously been. “To be fair,” he said taking up his cup, “I only told Iris. She told everyone else.”

“I didn’t tell everybody!” Iris protested. She gripped Barry’s arm and made her brown eyes go big and puppy dog like. “I didn’t—I just mentioned it to Caitlin and Linda and Felicity during a girl’s day.”

“Oliver knows?” Barry whined.

Iris frowned at him. “I didn’t say that.”

“No, but you told Felicity, so yes, in all likelihood, Oliver knows.” Barry groaned. “If I tell you guys something will you promise to be rational adults about this?”

“So you hooked up with him, but he’s someone we don’t like,” said Cisco, sipping on his drink. “Oh god, was it Hartley?”

“I haven’t even seen Hartley since he escaped,” said Barry. He wrinkled his nose. “Matter of fact, I don’t think Hartley knows who I am.”

“Definitely Captain Cold then,” said Cisco, popping a fry in his mouth.

Barry’s mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide.

Everyone at the table choked.

“Barry, what the hell that was a joke!” Cisco hissed.

“You promised to be rational adults!”

“Well, rationally speaking I would never go out with someone who has kidnapped both my friends on separate occasions!” said Caitlin, leaning across the table.

“Who did what now?” asked Ronnie.

“Captain Cold and Heatwave kidnapped me and held me hostage,” said Caitlin as he pulled her into a protective embrace.

“Wow. I know we’ve worked with them a few times, but really, you slept with one of them?” asked Ronnie, with a raised eyebrow.

Barry did his best to look innocent. He failed.

“You did?!” Cisco and Caitlin speaking in tandem.

Iris spoke in a low voice. “Barry, please, tell me this was not the other night when we dropped you off in your apartment and you said there was no one there?”

Barry dropped his head as close to his shoulders as he could get it. “…Technically I said no fanclubs.”

“Oh you slut,” said Eddie, sipping his drink, making an obnoxious slurping noise.

“Uh, excuse me?” said Barry.

“You slept with a guy who broke into your apartment, Barry, your archnemesis no less,” said Eddie. “You’re a slut. Embrace it.”

“He was in his underwear!” Barry said. “Someone I had fantasized about for months! Now be honest, if the significant other at the table right now, or Lisa Snart!” said

Barry pointing at Cisco before he could object. He pointed at Linda and said, “Or someone ‘special,’ showed up at your residence wearing only their underwear and their charming personality, what would you do?”

“That’s a fair point,” said Linda, pointing to him with one of her remaining fries. “But it raises the question, just how long have you had a crush on Captain Cold?”

Barry flushed and covered his face with his hands. Iris poked him in the side. “Answer the question, Mr. Allen.”

“A couple of months, maybe?” Barry said, still not taking his hands from his eyes. “It was after that whole betrayal thing with the other Rogues. There have been times we’ve had to team up, times I’ve seen him do good things, and I don’t know… I know it doesn’t erase the past, and he can’t really make up for anything he’s done, but it’s how I feel. We’ve talked about how this is going to work and how it might not, and that’s it.”

Iris squeezed his bicep. “I suppose…” she said. “We should be grateful that you told us now than months down the line when you’re stuck in a burning building with him or something.”

“But anymore kidnapping and you really should cut him loose,” said Cisco.

“Agreed,” came Caitlin.

Barry dropped his hands and nodded emphatically. “Yes, yes, anymore kidnapping and dating is off the table.” He paused for a second, looking around at them before settling on Iris. “Do you think I should tell Joe?”

Iris patted his leg. “Maybe wait to see if you guys last a month. No sense in putting him into an early grave if you and Snart don’t work out.”

* * *

They had managed to get most if the way through a fruit plate at brunch before Lisa asked, “What’s his name?”

“Barry,” said Len—no sense in trying to pussyfoot around the issue. “He’s twenty-six and he works as a CSI.”

Lisa frowned. “You don’t normally go for the star crossed thing, Lenny.”

Len shrugged. “We’re playing it by ear to see if it works out.”

“So he knows?” She speared a melon ball and popped it into her mouth.

Len shrugged again. “Be hard not to with everything that went down these past few months. We don’t really talk about anything work related when we’re together.” All two times, he thought. But it wouldn’t be a bad thing if they left work related topics out of the mix for future dates.

“But you like him alright, don’t you?” Lisa asked, after she had swallowed a tart strawberry. Len grinned as he watched her face scrunch up.

“I like him a lot, actually,” said Len, spooning some fruit onto his own small plant. “I feel like he’s more than I deserve sometimes. You know, I never really thought I would meet someone—”

“What a second, go back,” said Lisa, as she let her fork clatter against her plate. “Barry who is a CSI… You’re dating Mr. December?”

“Louder, Lisa, Canada can’t hear,” said Len. He swiped a strawberry through some clotted cream, pleased when it was less tart than the one Lisa had had. “We weren’t dating then—had only seen each other in passing. But I knew him. When I saw him like that, though, I thought it was time to make a move.”

“Did real life live up to the picture?” Lisa asked over her water glass, grin highlighted by her perfect lipstick.  
Len grinned back. “Did he ever.”

* * *

Barry stood in his Captain’s office, wringing his hands. Alice Whitaker was sizing him up, almost like she was imagining him in his underwear. “Well Mr. Allen?” she asked.

“I’ve decided to go ahead with this new calendar.” Singh frowned at him. “But, I did have a couple of requests, if I may.”

“Go ahead,” said Singh, just as Whitaker opened her mouth.

“I’d like for as much of a close set as possible,” said Barry, his eyes flicking between Singh and Whitaker. “And I’d like to keep Officer Farmer as the photographer.”

“I’m certain we can accommodate both of those requests!” said Alice Whitaker with a smile. “Captain Singh made me think that you were going to ask for the farm. Shall we settle on a date now then? If you wouldn’t mind, I thought we could do a day when you’re not working or on call. That way we can get it done in as short amount of time as possible. And we’ll want you to sign a release form, I noticed you didn’t have one for the original shoot. Also—”

Barry felt his eyes go a little wide as she went on. He looked to Singh who gave him a sly smile and a small shrug, as if to say, “You made your bed.”

* * *

That night all Barry wanted to do was curl up with Len. He texted Len as such, who came over as Barry was still in the shower. “Hello!” Len called as he walked in.

“Hi, I’m in the shower!” Barry called back. He heard Len coming closer and peaked out to see when he was in the doorway. “Care to join me?”

Len grinned at him and began to strip. He stepped into the shower, pressing kiss to Barry’s mouth as he pressed him into the tile. “Hi,” Len murmured against Barry’s mouth.

“Hi,” said Barry. He ran his hand over Len’s shaved head and kissed him back. “How was your day?”

“Quiet,” said Len, slipping his arms around Barry’s waist. “I had brunch with Lisa. Did some…” He paused, pressing a kiss against Barry’s neck, “Planning.”

Barry hummed. “That sounds nice.”

“I imagine that your day was not that great,” said Len, nuzzling Barry’s neck.

“It was okay,” said Barry as he was feeling up Len. “I agreed to do that sequel calendar today.”

Len jerked up, butting his head into Barry’s chin. He nearly slipped on the porcelain tub floor, but steadied himself against the shower walls. Barry was rubbing his chin as Len did the same to his head. “What?” Len asked. “I thought you didn’t want to do that?”

“Well, I didn’t, but I thought about it and changed my mind.” Barry shrugged. “It just seemed like a good idea for a fundraising opportunity for the department.”

Len narrowed his eyes. “Who do I need to ice? Did someone bully you into this?”

Barry laughed. “No, Dad, nobody bullied me. I talked it over with my friends, and I changed my mind. C’mere.” Barry took Len’s face in his hands and kissed him. “You’re still the only one who gets a private viewing, who,” Barry rubbed their hips together, “gets to have me like this.”

“I had better,” Len said, kissing him again. But already the wheels in his head were already turning as they cut off the shower and headed to the bedroom.

* * *

When Len got home he went immediately to Lisa’s room. Her door was open, and she had a schematic laid out on her bed. “Hey,” she said. “I think I nearly have a plan worked out for the Museum of Gemology and…what’s wrong?”

“Barry’s going to do a calendar of just him, and I need your help,” said Len all at once.

Lisa patted her bed and offered up a bag of twizzlers. “Talk to me, bro.”

* * *

The day had arrived. Barry had run all the way to Coast City twice before Eddie and Iris had come to drive him to the shoot/make sure he would try not to escape. When he arrived, Caitlin and Cisco were there. “I’m DJing,” said Cisco. “And Caitlin is catering. Linda had to work. Ronnie and Oliver and Eddie are working security.”

“Oliver is here?” Barry squeaked. He tried to bolt, but Iris grabbed his shirt collar and frog marched him into the room.

Felicity was talking to Farmer about lighting and what lens she would be using. Vasquez was there by a rack of clothing, and beckoned him over. Barry was not quite sure how, but he made it over to her. “Okay, since when do you know Oliver Queen?” she asked.

“For a little over a year now?” said Barry.

Vasquez hummed. “Okay, have you ever worn leather pants?”

Barry had. Vasquez had talked over costume choices with Iris to gauge Barry’s comfort level. Surprisingly her choices were not that outlandish, and some were even from his own closet. The leather pants and sleeveless band tee-shirt were first, then a three piece suit, barefoot with a pair of worn jeans. Farmer gave him directions on how to pose, and Caitlin brought him food in between shots. All in all, it was almost like he was just hanging out with his friends.

They had finished up six of the calendar pages when Farmer called for a break to download her current pictures and get a new memory card for the camera.

“So Barry,” said Felicity as he slouched into a seat around the catering table. “Who’s this special someone I’ve been hearing about from everyone but you?”

“Please tell her,” said Oliver. “She will not stop talking about it.”

“Let’s talk later,” said Barry, tugging on his ear. He and Felicity had long ago figured out that they would need a way to tell each other that they couldn’t talk about something due to it being hero related.

Felicity frowned, but tugged her ear in return, and her face scrunched as she tried to think of who it might be that Barry could be dating who would also be a superhero.

But she let it go. They snacked for a little while when Farmer returned and called for Barry to get into place.

“Dude, you know what would be great?” Cisco asked. “If you had him pose with Oliver or Eddie. Or both.”

“Ooo!” said Felicity as she redid some lighting. “The fangirls would go crazy. Fanboys too.” She looked up at Oliver and batted her eyelashes.

Oliver, for his part, only rolled his eyes before slipping off his jacket and removing his shirt. Eddie, needing no bribery, was shirtless and next to Barry so quickly, Barry thought he had super speed. “Okay, so how do we do this?” Eddie asked.

Cisco, Farmer and just about everyone else (even Ronnie), gave their input on how to pose the three men. Eventually, they decided to have Barry and Oliver facing one another, with Barry’s hands on Oliver’s chest. Eddie would stand behind Barry gripping his hips.

“Man, our slash fanfiction numbers are going to go through the roof!” said Eddie with a grin.

“People are writing slash fanfiction about us?” Barry asked.

“Uh huh,” said Eddie. “There’s a bunch about how Iris comes between us, but my favorite is when—”

“Thawne, stop making my model blush,” Famer ordered. “Barry pretend you’re Bella Swan.”

“Can I not?” Barry asked.

“Pretend you’re the heroine on a romance novel!” Cisco said. “Minus the vampires and the abusive relationship.

“Slightly better.”

“Brood!” Farmer command. “Oliver, can he squeeze your pecks?”

“Uh, no,” said Oliver.

Farmer rolled her eyes. “Allen, I need you to brood. Set yourself on edge.”

“I have something that will work perfectly.”

Barry could practically feel his bones creek as he turned to look and saw Len standing just inside the doorway of their studio dressed as Captain Cold. Heatwave and the Golden Gilder stood at his side. Eddie and Vasquez instinctively reached for their pieces, but came up lacking since they were off duty. Oliver’s eyes flitted to the catering table, and he was calculating how quickly he could get there.

“Now, now, there’s no need for anyone to get hurt,” said Len. “All I want is your camera, and anything else related to this little photo shoot.”

“The fuck?” Farmer asked.

“You heard the man,” said Gilder. “Camera, computers, pronto. Once we have the pictures you’ll get them back.”

“Gilder, you take Mr. Ramon’s computer, Heatwave, you watch the group.” Cold approached Farmer and held out his free hand. “And I’ll take your memory card if you don’t mind.”

Sophie Farmer only narrowed her eyes at him. “Sophie, just do what he wants,” said Barry, still sandwiched in between Eddie and Oliver.

Sophie took her memory card from the camera and handed it to Captain Cold. Cold dropped it to the ground and iced it. “feckin’ expensive,” Sophie hissed.

“I’m sure,” said Cold. He turned to Gilder. “You find anything there sis?”

“Nada,” she said. “He doesn’t have anything from the photo shoot on here. We’re good.” She kissed his cheek. “Thanks for cooperating, cutie; it does make it a lot easier.”

And just like that, they all bounded out of the studio and a minute later they heard car wheels squeaking.

“Well that was fucking weird,” said Vasquez as she pulled out her phone. “The three of you get dressed; I’ve got to call this in.”

“I just knew it,” said Sophie, shaking her head. “I knew we shouldn’t have done this shoot after all of those weird comments on the message boards. I bet half of them were from Snart.”

* * *

Len figured after three days, his relationship was probably over. Barry didn’t answer any of his messages, wouldn’t take any of his phone calls, and there were always police cars outside of Barry’s apartment.

“Why did I do that?” he asked Lisa as he worked his way through a pint of ice cream.

“You get a little stupid when you really like people,” Lisa told him.

“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Len asked.

“It’s not often I get to see you act stupid,” said Lisa, as she polished off her own pint of ice cream

The doorbell rang. Len and Lisa ignored it.

“He was the best I’ll ever had,” Len moaned.

Lisa took his ice cream from him, and read the ingredients label. “Seriously, did they put drugs in this? Pull yourself together. If he really likes you, if he really didn’t care about the whole Captain Cold thing, he’ll call. You guys will have makeup sex and everything will be fine.”

There was a swift, musical knock at Lisa’s bedroom door.

“Enter!” she called.

Hartley opened the door and poked his head inside. “Um, Oliver Queen is at the door?”

“What does he want?” Lisa asked.

“To talk to Len, apparently? He said he has a message from someone called Barry.”

Len slid from the bed, ever the calm and collected leader. Lisa followed after, now eating from Len’s pint of ice cream. Hartley followed after them, humming as he did.  
Oliver Queen was indeed waiting in their foyer, being watched by Shawna, Mick and Roscoe. He had in one hand a plastic plate covered with tin foil, a cross bow strapped to one ankle, a knife in his boot and a frown on his face.

“Mr. Queen,” said Len as he approached. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

Oliver dug a note written on plain lined paper out of his pocket. He opened it with a quick flick of his wrist and began reading. “Dear Len, Just so we’re clear, you are in the doghouse for the foreseeable future. The reason why I have been radio silent on your numerable forms of communication is because of the police detail I now have following me around everywhere. I can’t take a piss without someone standing over my shoulder, much less answer ten different texts from my criminal boyfriend. I feel I must reiterate: you are in trouble. It’ll probably be a while before Captain Singh and the others at the station are convinced that you aren’t actually going to do anything to me (well, anything against my will). In the meantime, enjoy these chocolate chip cookies filled with guilt,” here, Oliver held out the plate covered with tin foil, which Len took, “and your left hand. Yours Sincerely, Barry. PS: We finished the photoshoot, you destroyed none of the actual pictures, and in just about everyone’s opinion I looked very good.”

With that, Oliver Queen, folded up his note, and said, “Now that Barry owes me forever, I’m going to go. Enjoy your cookies.” Then he turned and walked out the door.

Len could hear Roscoe and Shawna snickering at him. Even Hartley was biting down his lip. “The next person who laughs,” said Len, “doesn’t get any of the guilt cookies.”

That shut them up. For a while.

* * *

Epilogue

Batman really did not understand the Flash’s relationship with his Rogues. Eobard Thawne was the sort of villain he was used to—cold, ruthless, and one Barry took down without a second thought. But then there were villains like Captain Cold, who Barry had arguments with in the middle of a battlefield.

Green Arrow had sat down to care for his arrows, and the other Rogues were watching with fascination, sharing a bowl of popcorn between them (Batman had no idea where they had gotten that, but they had managed to pull it up from somewhere). The Vibe, Frost and Firestorm joined them after a time.

Batman felt confident that he was not the only one confused by this, as Superman and Wonder Woman also watched the scene with confusion marring their faces.

“Arrow?” said Batman.

“Hmm?”

“What’s going on here?”

Oliver didn’t even look up. “Barry and Leonard are fighting.”

“Is it just me, or are they fighting over who took out the garbage last?” asked Superman.

“They’ve had weirder arguments,” said the Golden Gilder.

“There was the one about how to pronounce ‘quiche,’” Vibe pointed out.

“Not their worst though,” said the Weather Wizard.

“Nope, that was the Calendar,” said Killer Frost, as she fed a piece of popcorn to Firestorm.

“The Calendar?” Wonder Woman asked.

Trickster gasped and looked up at the three of them. “You haven’t seen the Calendar yet?” He patted himself down and then turned to the Pied Piper. “Hart, do you have your copy?”

Piper scoffed. “Do I have my copy?” From his satchel, he pulled a calendar labeled, “CCPD Fundraiser, Special Edition, Barry Allen.”

Diana took the glossy calendar and opened it. “Oh my,” she said. “I never knew he was so…flexible.”

Bruce couldn’t quite help but turn his head as he watched Barry on the page twist into a complex pose. Diana flipped through the pictures, all of Barry. They were all…very good, Bruce thought.

“Oh god, not the calendar again,” said Barry from where he stood arguing with Captain Cold.

“Never living it down!” Vibe called back to him.

**Author's Note:**

> Everyone got more out of character the more I wrote. I make no excuses for this.


End file.
